Chapter Fourteen

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First off, I'd like to apologize for taking forever to edit this chapter. I'm finally getting back into the swing of things with this book and it feels really good. I'm optimistic that I'll be editing bi-weekly, at least. I promise I will hold myself to that! Honestly I've been really stressed out in real life, and writing has been a really nice outlet.

I read what this chapter used to be and I cringed and laughed so hard lmao. It's funny how much your writing can change in only a few years.

Any who, here is chapter 12. It is completely different than it used to be and I hope you enjoy. I love feedback, both the good and the bad!

Sorry it's a really short chapter, But it served its purpose very quickly.

xx

It'd been a few days since the grocery trip and nothing had really happened since then, much to my vagina's disappointment. I hadn't really got any closer to finding out Roger's secret either.

Our encounters became ritually the same. He went to work, came home, we ate dinner, watched TV, and went to bed. At first I tried to sleep on the couch again but he wasn't having that, so I started sleeping with him in his room. I couldn't lie it was really nice. My nightmares weren't nearly as bad anymore, as I started dreaming about him.

It was either the middle of the night or really early in the morning, I couldn't tell. I was wrapped in Roger's arms and he was fast asleep. I'd just woken up, extremely thirsty. I pulled his arm off me and tip-toed across the room toward the kitchen. I filled up a glass with water a chugged it greedily.

"Nat?" I heard Roger sleepily call out.

I was about to answer when he jumped out of bed, running towards the bathroom.

My eyebrows furrowed, and I paced quickly after him.

He was crouched in front of the toilet, puking his guts out.

"Oh, god," My nose scrunched. I squatted down and sat myself next to him, rubbing his back.

"There, there," I tried soothing him. He continued throwing up, and his face had a light sheen of sweat. Oh, dear.

Once he seemed done, I pulled him back and felt his forehead.

"Your burning up," I muttered with a frown. He looked really sick, with bags under his eyes and pink cheeks.

"Do you still feel nauseous?" I asked, concerned.

"Not so much anymore, no," he looked so innocent for once.

"Okay then brush your teeth and get back in bed, I'll get you some water okay?"

He nodded and complied as I walked back the the kitchen, wetting a washcloth and filling a glass of water.

When I returned he was back in bed, shivering a little. I sat next to him and laid another blanket over him.

"Here drink this," I offered him the water and he took it, downing the liquid.

"You shouldn't be near me," He frowned, and I placed the cup on the side table.

"I'll be fine," I shrugged. He needed someone to take care of him.

He didn't fight me, just closed his eyes. I pat his face with the towel as he was still a little sweaty. He smiled a little but it vanished so quickly it's like it was never there.

"Thank you," he looked at me with sad eyes.

I smiled at him gently, "What's wrong?"

He was quiet for a minute, "You just reminded me of my mom for a moment."

I felt sad for him, she must have died.

"Did she die from the disease?" I hoped I wasn't pressing too hard.

"No," he sounded gruff. I didn't know what to say, nor did I want to push him so I stayed quiet.

After a few moments he continued, "My dad killed her."

I gasped, caught off guard. Was he serious?

He looked to me from the corner of his eye, "She got pregnant by another man when I was fourteen. My dad shot her and then killed himself," he looked back up to the ceiling.

My face held the shock that I felt inside. I couldn't believe he had gone through that, at only fourteen years old.

"I'm--I'm so sorry Roger," I stuttered. I never expected that to come out of his mouth. I didn't know quite what to say but I also don't think he expected me to.

Instead I just took his hand in mine and brushed my thumb over his knuckles.

He exhaled, closing his eyes. He looked calm.

"Come here," He said softly.

I let go of his hand and laid down close to him. He wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me closer, my head now resting on his chest and sighed, holding onto me. His fingers brushed up and down my back, going in circles. I could of sworn I saw a tear falling down the side of his face. My heart squeezed and I kissed his chest.

No words needed to be said as we slowly drifted off back to sleep. 

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